


I Can Die Happy [NSFW]

by LizEBoredom



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizEBoredom/pseuds/LizEBoredom
Summary: Drake and Minah's first time together before all hell breaks loose at the Homecoming Ball





	I Can Die Happy [NSFW]

 

Drake was sitting at the bar watching the exchange between Cavendish and the blonde demon, wondering whether she needed to be rescued. Based on the fierce look on her face, her narrowed eyes glinting with barely disguised hatred, though the rest of her face was still fixed in a diplomatic mask of politeness. He snickered, thinking back to their first interactions during the Masquerade Ball. Back then he’d underestimated her, thinking she’d be eaten alive by the likes of Olivia and Madeleine. He should have known better. By the way Madeleine’s face was turning beet red,  _she_  probably should have known better, too.

When she flounced off into the crowd, Cavendish spotted him watching her. She grinned at him devilishly, sauntering over to him. He used it as an opportunity to drink her in, the way the bodice of the golden dress she was wearing hugged every curve, the jewels sparkling around her neck and dripping down to her ample cleavage, that wild hair of hers worn loose, her loose curls tumbling over one shoulder.  She had a body made for sin and he’d been a damn choir boy resisting that temptation for far too long.

“So, cowboy, how are you holding up with all this courtly finery?”

He fidgeted a bit in his suit, adjusting the lapels on the blue suit coat. If he was being honest, he wanted to do nothing more than peel this ridiculous costume off and throw on a t-shirt, but he was determined that he’d deal with the discomfort for her. So he smiled and changed the subject, telling her she looked like a million bucks.

“So you like the dress?” she asked, knowing full well he did.

“Yeah,” he said, not even hiding the fact that he was mentally undressing her. “You could say that.”

“Thanks. I had a feeling I might find you at the bar.”

“Y’know, if you’re calling me predictable, Cavendish, I  _might_  not order you a drink.”

“Somehow I highly doubt that.”

He hid a smile. She definitely knew him well. He would give her anything she asked.

“Fine, you got me. How can I turn you down? How about I get you something and then we can take a breather from this party.”

She grinned at him, the first real smile he’d seen on her face all night.

“That sounds nice.”

“I have a place where we can go to get some privacy.”

“That seems to be a hot commodity around here.”

“I’d rather spend the whole night along with you,” he said, stepping closer to her, causing her breath to quicken. He stared at her intensely for a moment, hoping she understood his meaning. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’d…I’d really like that,” she said. Based on the look she gave him, it seemed she was thinking the same thing he was. “So what are you ordering me? Don’t say whiskey.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked. “A challenge, huh? I’ll take it.”

He turned and ordered something from the bartender, speaking so low she couldn’t hear him. After a few minutes, the bartender produced the drink for him. He picked it up from the bar and handed it to her. She sniffed it and took a sip.

“A mojito? Why a mojito?”

They talked about the drink, how the seemingly simple cocktail is surprisingly complex, much like she was. When she was satisfied with his explanation, he got her to sneak out of the ballroom with him. He led her to a quiet place in the hall, where he leaned against a wall while they both sipped their drinks. He tried to hold back a smile. He’d been planning this night since New York and wanted everything to be perfect.

“So, you’re going to be a Duchess soon. Do I have to start calling you ‘Your Grace’?”

She laughed. “If you call me anything other than Cavendish, it’s going to feel weird.”

“Heh. Alright, I can stick to that.”

They locked eyes, the intensity between them taking both of their breath away. They both knew, deep inside, that tonight was  _the night_. The night they’d both been dreaming of, that they’d been leading up to for far too long. She took a step forward, closer to him, but still too far away for his liking.

“So…is this this the part where you make fun of me for becoming a real noble?”

Her voice was low and breathless. She was biting her lip.  _Fuck_. She had to know what that did to him. Never breaking eye contact, he shook his head and raised his glass to her.

His own voice came out husky, like a low moan. “I know you better than that, Cavendish. You’re you, and there’s nothing … not even a title … that can take that away from you.”

He’d stepped closer to her as he was speaking, only a few steps, but having closed the gap slightly more. She could almost reach out and touch him at this point.

“Thanks, Drake.”

“Though if you ever get too high and mighty, I’ll be glad to remind you of the old days.”

She grinned, stepping toward him again, their eyes still locked on each other.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

They were within arm’s reach now. Either of them could easily eliminate the distance that served to keep them apart. They both finished their drinks slowly, maintaining eye contact, heat and longing passing between them.

“You know,” he said, setting his glass down, “after tonight we may not get much time to ourselves.”

She set hers down as well, inching even closer to him. “We’ll both have plenty of obligations,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, still not wanting to break eye contact. He studied her face, searching each feature as through trying to commit the way she looked at this moment to his memory. Every detail, every hair, those two little freckles near her hairline on her left cheek, the blue of her eyes. He was memorizing it all. She took one more step toward him, and he could feel her. They were almost toe-to-toe, both of them breathless as though they’d been running for miles. He could feel his heart pounding out to the rhythm of  _her_ ; her attractiveness, her kindness, her sense of humor.  _Her lips_ ….

In an instant he’d pulled her closer, spinning her to press her up against the wall, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. He poured all of his desire, his longing, all of their moments in between into that kiss. She pulled him closer, groaning as he wrapped her arms around his waist. He pulled away, moaning her name.

“I can think of a better place to be doing this,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, his voice thick with lust.

“Oh?” she asked breathlessly.

“Wait here,” he said, pulling away from her.

He could hear the annoyance in her voice as she whined, “Wait here? Are you  _kidding_  me?”

“I just… If we’re going to do this, I want it to be special,” he said, cupping her face with his hand. She leaned into his palm as his thumb lightly brushed against her cheek.

“Okay, I love surprises. Just make it a good one,” she said with a wicked grin, turning her face to press a kiss to his hand and lightly pulling his thumb into her mouth, earning her another moan from him.

“That’s … Cavendish, we’re not going to make it to a room if you keep that up …”

She released his thumb and he brushed her hair back. “That’s the plan,” he continued.

He headed down the hall, opening the door to her room. While in there, he lit every candle he’d placed earlier while he had Olivia and Hana distracting her in the boutique. When he was finally finished, he opened the door, gesturing for her to join him. She stopped just short of the door, placing her hand flat against his chest.

“Am I allowed to look now?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Come on in.”

He closed the door behind her, waiting as she took in what he’d done. He was holding his breath, waiting for her reaction. He hoped it wasn’t too much, or too little. What if she hated it?

“Well?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

“When did Drake Walker become such a romantic?” she asked, her voice full of emotion.

He was relieved, letting out the breath he’d been holding. He stepped closer to her, dropping his voice lower. He was so in love with this woman…he’d never felt something like this before for anyone.

“Look what you’ve done to me, Cavendish. You’ll be the death of me.” He reached up to brush her cheek again, echoing his movements from the hall. The sight of her standing there, bathed in the glow of the candlelight almost knocked him off his feet. He’d seen the most beautiful women in Europe, had his fair share of conquests, but this woman made his knees go weak and his heart beat faster. He couldn’t believe this was real. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again.

“So is this really going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent so long thinking about this…so long  _wanting_  you. It almost feels like a dream. I…”

He stopped, unable to continue. He was so overcome by this, by her, that he was afraid he might combust. He couldn’t give her what she deserved, and yet…she chosen him. She had Liam offering her the world and here she was with the King’s lowly commoner friend. It seemed too good to be true.

“What is it?”

“I’ve got nothing to offer you. I’m no one special. And yet… _somehow_ …here you are.”

“’Somehow’? Drake, you’re exactly what I want. Sharp. Funny. Challenging. Fiercely protective,” she smiled at him, love shining at him from those beautiful blue eyes. “And you’re a marshmallow at heart, no matter how much you try to hide it.”

“How do you do that, Cavendish? How do you see right through me, no matter how hard I try to hide?”

“You’re careful, Drake, but you’ve met your match.”

“I’ve spent too long being careful. I want this. I want  _you_. Now.”

“Drake,” she whispered, longing dripping from her voice. “I want you, too.”

“Cavendish…”

He kissed her, urgently, working to get that damn dress off her without tearing it. Her own hands were fumbling at the buttons on his shirt. She finally got his shirt undone and pushed it off his shoulders. He tore it off and removed his undershirt as she ran her hands across his chest.

“In a hurry?” he growled in her ear.

She giggled. “You’re the one who said he was tired of being careful…”

She tugged his belt off, pulling down his pants. “God, you’re hot,” she said.

“Look who’s talking.” He was still working at her clothes, kissing her after pulling piece after piece of clothing off, leaving them scattered across the floor as they stumbled across the room together. He was peppering kisses down her neck and shoulders, across her chest.

“Now who’s in a hurry?” she gasped.

“Can you blame me?” He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, listening to the low moan that escaped her when he did. He trailed his fingers up her side from her waist to her chest, tracing the outline of her breasts, watching goosebumps erupt where he touched.

Between their heated kisses, she turned and pressed him against the wall. He placed one hand on the small of her back and pulled her closer, so that she was flush against him. Their kisses grew more and more needy, more passionate. She placed one hand on his chest and he felt the other sliding up his thigh. God, he needed her now.

“Cavendish,” he groaned, his cock pressed against her.

“Should I stop,” she whispered, teasing.

“No… _fuck_  no. But there’s one thing in particular I’ve been dreaming about.”

He slid his hands down to her thighs to pick her up. He growled and nipped her earlobe when she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her over to the bed. They tumbled onto the bed together, and he held himself up on one arm to kiss her. He paused, stopping to appreciate how amazing she looked, bare and lit by the soft candlelight, lending her skin a warm glow. She pulled him back to her for another passionate kiss and his hand slid down to cup her breast, massaging lightly before sliding further down, slowly drawing it out as she whimpered and raised her hips.

Finally, he let his finger trace her slick folds, groaning at how wet she was for him already. She cried out, grasping on to him tighter when his finger slid up to her clit, moving in slow, tantalizing circles. He felt her shiver as he lowered himself onto her, kissing, nibbling, and sucking down the side of her neck. He moved his hand away, lining himself up at her entrance, steadying himself as he entered her at a tortuously slow pace, allowing himself to feel her wet heat as her walls stretched to accommodate his girth.

“Drake,” she gasped, her breath hot against his skin. “Please…don’t stop.”

As if he wanted to. Death himself could not stop him from being with this amazing creature; this woman who somehow wanted him as much as he wanted her. He captured her lips in another kiss as he began to set a slow, leisurely pace. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to maintain it, wanting nothing more than to give her exactly what she wanted right now, but he wanted to savor this. His fingers dug into her hips, wrapped in her hair, wandered her body as she met him, thrust for thrust.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned again, louder this time, and wrapped her legs around him, urging him to move faster. His breath caught at the sound, loving that he was the cause of her pleasure. He felt her hands lightly trace down his back, her fingertips digging in when he increased his pace, her breathing coming faster and faster, until a low keening cry erupted from her throat. He felt her getting closer, her body arching, her nails digging into his flesh, her walls tightening around him. He grabbed her waist and began to thrust harder, feeling every inch of her around him, unable to hold back any longer. She came apart, screaming his name, and he was drowning in the feeling of her when he followed, his ears ringing, white spots at the edge of his vision.

As they lay tangled together, she absent-mindedly drew patterns onto his chest with her fingers while he stroked her hair.

“That was…wow.”

“Have I rendered you speechless?”

A low laugh rumbled from his chest, and she looked up at him.

“What?” she asked.

“I just … I can die a happy man.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ubiquitous Disclaimer: Characters (and some dialogue) belong to Pixelberry. I’m just borrowing them
> 
> A/N: This fulfills an Anonymous request for Drake and Minah’s first time together. Enjoy the fluffy smut!


End file.
